


a walk in the park (can you see my breath in the winter air?)

by pookie_bear



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Gen, I think that's it - Freeform, Murder, Ryden, Rydon, also spencer and jon are mentioned like once, it's not really graphic but i gotta be safe, like it has one curse word in it, ryan and brendon are only friends sorry, twisted ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pookie_bear/pseuds/pookie_bear
Summary: In the end, though, the weather was still dreary, Ryan’s apartment was still gloomy, and his disappearance was hardly noticed.What a lovely world we live in.





	a walk in the park (can you see my breath in the winter air?)

     It was a foggy winter night. In a gloomy room, poorly lightened, Ryan sat inside, watching the dreary weather. It was snowing, as far as he could tell, little crafted flakes of ice floating down, caught in the drift of the wind. A single candle was lit, due to his lack of motivation to light the nearby fireplace. Thick satin curtains stood still against the wooden frame of the window, slightly open, and the moon glowed in through the glass, bathing the surrounding area in a wave of glimmering radiance.

     In addition, Ryan was an unmotivated soul as of now, with nothing to do, no one to speak to, and he dearly regretted declining Spencer's request to come over. Now, Jon was probably over at Spencer's house, doing something amusing or at the very least slightly engaging. Knowing them, it was probably watching the television until their brains rotted into a shriveled useless organ.

     Now he was here, all alone, unable to sleep despite his best attempts, and wondering where he could be if he could finally agree to something occasionally. Ryan sighed, the airy noise breaking the silence in the room. He sat on his couch, curled up into himself with the blanket cocooning him, snuggled deep into the cushions.

     A sudden chill ran through him, and he shivered. The atmosphere sank as the candle blew out, coating the room in a black haze, mists of smoke flowing out from the candle wick. Slight fear coursed through Ryan, and his heartbeat sped up slightly as his caramelized eyes scanned the room, his mind panic-ridden. There was no breeze in the room, no sudden directed breath from anywhere. He had the sudden feeling that something bad was about to happen, but dismissed it quickly.

     Three knocks sounded on the door, ringing through the room, and Ryan jumped slightly. He jerked his head to the clock strung up on the wall. The chime of the bell signaled midnight, the jingle accompanying the echo of the knocks. Ryan took several deep breaths, and decided to ignore the person at the door. It was midnight, and nothing good could come out of answering the door for a mysterious visitor. He had common sense, after all.

     He sucked in a deep breath, and reclined further into his sofa. He closed his eyes, and breathed evenly, before opening his eyes again.

     Five past midnight.

     He watched the moon gaze through his window, forgetting about his worries as he let the luminous figure capture his imagination. Only moments later, three knocks were heard. Following by a couple seconds, two knocks, three knocks, five knocks, and by three minutes Ryan didn't even bother to count anymore.

     "Coming!" He called out, annoyance lacing through his tone, and he threw the blanket off his lithe figure, clambering towards the door. He reached the front door after walking a few paces forward, since the couch was positioned exactly seven feet from the door. What could he say; he lived in a cramped apartment that he could hardly afford, but managed well enough.

     His hand settled on the brass handle, and then he hesitated. What happened to his supposed common sense? He shrugged both physically and mentally; what's the worst that could be on the other side of the door? A murderer wasn't too extreme, since his existence was unknown. He rubbed his eyes, yawning softly, before twisting the knob and pulling back. It was too late for these thoughts. He just needed to peek through the crack of the door to see who it is, and if it looked dangerous, he could always slam it shut. He peered through the ajar door, and, to his surprise, saw something neither dangerous nor anything posing as a menace.

     Instead, he saw Brendon. He silently thanked everything he could think of for blessing him with company, albeit, very energetic and slightly obnoxious company. Ryan raised an eyebrow at the others presence, silently questioning why he was here. The other only gave a wide smile, like it was completely normal to show up at someone's door at thirteen past midnight.

     "Brendon," Ryan started, trying not to raise his voice, as to not disturb others that were enjoying a good night's sleep, "what are you doing here?" Brendon opened his mouth to answer, that overly-cheerful grin still plastered on his face, before Ryan promptly interrupted him.

     "Don't give me a stupid reason, like you're here to cheer me up, or anything along the lines of that."

     Brendon pouted, crossing his arms like a child and stomping his foot against the carpet, the sound being muffled by the carpet.

     "I just came to ask you a question," He replied, tapping his foot aimlessly.

     He didn't talk after that, and Ryan could only fathom why he would start such a mysterious statement and not continue. For suspense? Was he waiting for Ryan to speak again? This wasn't a stupid story, where one person talks after the other continuously.

     "What are you waiting for? I could be doing so much more other than stand here and play your idiotic games."

     Brendon shrugged. In all honestly, it was quite unlike him. Ryan was expecting a dramatic sigh or even a random outburst at Ryan's lack of intelligence, how it was so obvious why he was here. But he didn't receive that. Only silence, and it was confusing him beyond anything.

     Finally, after what seemed like forever, Brendon took a deep breath and replied.

     "Do you want to take a walk in the park?"

     Ryan was taken aback by the ridiculousness of such a question. A walk in the park? A half past midnight? At nearly one in the morning? How absurd, how strange, how... questionable...

     "Take a walk in the park? Have you lost your brain? At a time like this? Do you even understand what you're saying?" Ryan stopped talking, taking a deep breath.

     "You know what, it's late. You can come in if you want."

     Brendon shook his head, "Come on, Ryan, it'll be fun. Don't you want to just walk around under the cover of the stars and just... I don't know, do something amazing and unforgettable?"

     Ah, the classic peer-pressure. Bargaining some excitement in exchange for your morals. How childish of him. Despite his internal reasoning, Ryan seemed to lean in closer to the wrong answer.

     "Let me think about it," He huffed out, tilting his gaze downward. He could only picture his friend's gaze; triumphant, like he won the best thing ever. Then again, Ryan supposed he was the closest thing to the most amazing prize. He smiled to himself; leave it to him to make himself laugh at his own jokes and terrible esteem. He supposed spending time with Brendon wouldn't hurt anyone.

     "Sure, let me get my shoes and a jacket."

     Brendon shook his head, nodding as he patiently waited for his friend to get ready. Ryan hurried further inside his apartment, shuffling to the coat rack to get a coat, as he said, and slipped a random pair of shoes on. 'Would you look at that, the pair didn't even match,' he mused to himself. He tugged the jacket on, zipping it up quickly before skipping to the door.

     "All ready," He said, snatching a key from the cabinet conveniently placed by door; what could he say, he loved making his life easier. Brendon nodded, stepping back as Ryan closed his door and locked it, before pulling the key out and placing it in his pockets along with his hands. They both walked along a dark corridor.

     Ryan lived in an apartment complex, to be precise. It was multiple stories up, and he had to walk down 2 flights of stairs to reach the end.

     They both stepped on the first step, and then began their descent downward. Second stair, skip a few due to Brendon's eagerness for absolutely no reason, fifth stair, skip numerous ones because Brendon decided to push Ryan along a little too fast, and by now Ryan just gave up trying to count. What was the point, anyways? In record time, being about five minutes, they reached the bottom, pushed open the heavy door, and instantly they were hit by a gust of wind from outside.

     Ryan made a noise, something of a sibilant nature, and tried to curl into himself to regain an ounce of warmth. Brendon didn't say anything, seen as he was adorned with a heavy winter coat. Reasonable, considering the weather and, undoubtedly, the season. They moved past that, and after being exposed to the early morning air, Ryan found it to be quite lovely, refreshing even.

     There was a park nearby, about a few blocks down. It was a children's park, with a small swing set and a whole array of slides and stairs, wood chips coating the ground, and the old worn down plastic close to snapping. A few park benches were planted on the sidelines, and a basketball court was connected to a thin path. Concrete walkways surrounding the area, mainly used for riding bikes or taking walks. There was a string of pavement leading there, considerably straight, and numerous other streets were connected.

     It was all intricate and complicated, but Ryan did suppose this was what it was supposed to be like in the city. They walked at an even pace, hopping over cracks and skipping slightly. Of course, it was Brendon who was that excited, moving all over the place, while Ryan decided to calmly stroll along. What was the point of wasting useful energy? Then again, Ryan wasn't that active anyways. After walking for what seemed like forever, a path diverged to the right, and in plain sight was the park. Ryan turned to Brendon.

     "What are we going to do when we get there?" He inquired, and Brendon tried to mask a smile.

     "Don't know, Ryan, but I'm sure we'll find something to do."

     And with that, Ryan was left even more confused than he was previously. He decided that maybe Brendon lost his brain cells, and the thought made him laugh. Soon later, they were on the main path that did a full circle around the park. A park bench came into sight, and multiple streetlamps were illuminating the wooden seat. Ryan promptly sat down, scooting over so Brendon could also sit alongside him. Surprisingly, Brendon didn't make a move to sit down, choosing to stay in place.

     Ryan laughed, "Come on, Brendon, you didn't think that I would stay standing, did you?"

     There wasn't a reply. Brendon looked quite nervous, if Ryan was going to be honest. Ryan stared at him curiously.

     "Brendon? Are you alright?"

     Again, no response. It was getting infuriating by now. Firstly, he forced him to take this walk and then when Ryan does something, he doesn't reply. How angering. Ryan stopped his train of thought when he noticed Brendon shivering, tense, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Ryan was concerned, to say the least. Brendon was his best friend, he couldn't stay mad at him for long. He made a move to stand up, but was stopped by Brendon's voice.

     "No."

     No? What was that supposed to mean? Automatically, Ryan stopped, then cursed himself.

     "Brendon, you don't look alright. We should head back..."

     Brendon seemed to have regain emotion and movement, because he flicked his hand out of his pocket, holding it behind his back.

     "No, Ryan, we aren't going back. In fact, we're not going anywhere until I do what needs to be done."

     Now Ryan was just puzzled.

     "Brendon, what needs to be done? Come on, you can't just say that and expect me to ignore it and move along with everything."

     Brendon shrugged, "Will you be able to move when I'm done with you?"

     With that comment, Ryan froze. What...the...fuck...

     Brendon slowly revealed his hand, showcasing what appeared to be a knife. Immediately, Ryan fell into a trance, transfixed onto the curve of the blade, how sharp the edges were, every little detail that he shouldn't be noticing right now but he was.

     He broke out with a slight tremble from Brendon, and backed away.

     "Brendon? Why do you have that?"

     To say the least, he was petrified. The sheer appearance of Brendon at this moment seemed to intimidate him beyond anything. What was that about common sense? What was that about having a bad feeling? He mentally slapped himself. This was why he should've ignored the knocks, listened to his gut. Instead, he got pressured by a simple command from his best friend, and he was going to pay for it dearly.

     "Brendon, I... I swear..."

     But Brendon didn't seem to be paying attention. He was staring at Ryan, the perfect victim; fooled easily, manipulated so cleverly, cunningly. Everything went per plan. He advanced slightly, stepping forward. Ryan let out a guttural sob, and attempted to escape. But oh no, Brendon wouldn't have it.

     "Come on, Ryan, this is absolutely necessary," Brendon said simply.

     "What, are you going to kill me?!" Ryan shouted, but Brendon quickly covered the distance between them, putting his index finger to Ryan's lipped, effectively shushing him.

     "Quiet now, no one can know."

     Ryan whimpered, jerking his head away, before a surge of anger overtook him.

     "No! No, I refuse for this to happen! You're just... you're just...look, it just isn't necessary!"

     A few minutes passed, silence being blurred with heavy breaking. Brendon didn't react. A minute later, he sharply slapped Ryan across the face, giving him a look of outrage. His tone was absolutely appalled when he spoke, "I think I know what's best, don't you agree?"

     "But...but why?" Ryan whispered.

     Maybe this was a dream, a terrible nightmare, and Ryan would wake from his twisted covers into a more twisted reality, but a reality where this just doesn't happen. Brendon gave him a smile, and the word creepy did nothing to define it.

     "Does murder need a reason?"

     Ryan could pass out. A couple of tears slipped from both eyes, and he shut his eyes tightly, wishing for something to happen, someone to show up.

     "Brendon, please...come on, I trust you. I trust you with a lot of things. With my life, even. You can't... you can't just throw away my trust like this..."

     Oh, but he could. Brendon gave him a sympathetic look, before plunging the knife deep into Ryan's chest. He couldn't even scream, the pain was too much, so he just stared at his best friend and let the tears roll down his cheeks. It continued like that. Stab after stab, until the nearby snow was coated in a pretty shade of pink.

     After a couple of minutes, the deed was done, and Brendon stepped back to take in his work. He'd admit, it was a little bit messier, but he tried to make it was painless as possible. Simply because Ryan was his best friend. He didn't want him to suffer. He always said he'd be the one to protect him, but even so, if someone were it hurt Ryan, it'd be Brendon. Complicated, I know. But the worst minds are just tunnels of endless thoughts, skipped emotions, and ill habits.

     In the end, though, the weather was still dreary, Ryan's apartment was still gloomy, and his disappearance was hardly noticed.

     What a lovely world we live in.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt my language arts teacher gave us (not the whole 'murder scene' thing) and the prompt was to use vocabulary words to create a story. i did, and got 20 points taken off because the story was supposed to be 2 pages long, and mine was 10+ pages. :) please tell me if i missed anything in the tags, because i was really confused as to how to tag this. (also, this was written in january. my writing style has [hopefully] changed and improved since then.) bye!!


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